w 











• ^ ■& « 

- o . * * .A 1+ 











v.** .o 





















<£* ^, 















^ *' n 4^ 

V * O ^ ^'i. 4 > 











THE BROKEN STATUE 

de FONTANGE. 
A DRAMATIC DAY 



BY 



HAROLD W. GAMMANS, AB. 

PROFESSOR OF LANGUAGES, SHENANDOAH COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE 
DAYTON, VIRGINIA. 



DAYTON, VIRGINIA, U. S. A. 

RUEBUSH-ELKINS CO.. PUBLISHERS, 

1909 



p 



a**,*/ ^ m* 



.AsB? 



Copyright, 1909 

BY 

HAROLD W. GAMMANS, 
December First. 



All rights reserved. 



€>CI,D 17610 



>■ 



PREFACE. 

One rainy afternoon, when I was in my 
fourteenth year, I was reading an old volume 
of Leslie's Weekly, and I came across an ar- 
ticle on the cyclonic career of the Duchess de 
Fontange. Its tragic facts stirred me to 
action. I went to the library to get what 
further material I could on her life. After I 
had read the few volumes obtainable, I wrote 
two pedantic scenes, which amused some of 
my friends so much that I decided to start 
over again the preparatory work of my drama. 
This time I thought that I must learn how the 
stage people of the Louis XIV period talked. 
So I read a few dramas by Moliere, Racine, 
Corveille. I read Shakespeare, also, at this 
time. These master minds did not discourage 
me, and, with childish confidence, I retained 
the idea that I would produce a real drama 
before long. 

Eleven years have gone. I have hoped; I 
have persevered; I have learned. What have 
I now to offer in this dramatic day which 
came to me in rough sort of rhythm ? A good 
effort, I hope, done in the right spirit. If 
any line is worthy, then a power, which I 
would should direct me, spoke. 

Dayton, Virginia, November, 1909. 



"Love is whole 
And true; if sure of naught beside, most sure 
Of its own truth at last; nor may endure 
A crowd to see its face, that cannot know 
How hot the pulses throb its heart below." 

Browning: Sordello. I. 730. 



\ 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 

Marie Angelique de Fontange, Duchess, a loving 

woman of eighteen years. 
Sister Felice. 
Sister Laura. 

Sister Celeste, once la Valiere, mistress of Louis XIV 
Novice Helen. 
Father Ambrose. 
Louis XIV. 

SCENE : A Convent near 'Paris. 



ACT FIRST. 

SCENE I. — A chamber in a Convent near Paris, 
TIME :—The Latter part of the reign of Louis XIV. 

Father Ambrose and Marie Angelique de 
fontange. 

Ambrose. Dost thou not crave forgiveness 
now, my child ? 

Dost thou not seek the loving intercession 

Of the sweet Mother of Our Sacred Lord ? 

Was not the cross He bore, the thorny 
crown, 

Enough to make thee trust in his great love ? 

Thou dost not feel that He will hear thy voice. 

We are all too unworthy to pray to Him. 

Blest Mary will intercede for thee, but ask, — 

One prayer, and only give thyself to the 
prayer, 

Mary will pity thee, and ask her Lord 

That thy soul may be saved. 
Marie. Shall I be saved 



8 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act I 

If I surrender all, and sink myself 
In prayer ? But how can I surrender ? 
There is nothing in myself which is my 

own. 
Love came to me, and I gave all to love; 
Or love, Promethus-like, filched my heart, 
My soul, my spirit, all I was, it grasped; 
And it doth own me. Do you know my 

king ? 
Louis, the great noble soul of the whole 

world ? 
Oh ! do you know him ? Then I say I love 

him; 
And it was he who made the bud of love 
Burst the first moment that he looked on it 
With friendly eye. Oh ! happy flower ? 
Its bloom was all I could desire, Could I 
Withhold from it one drop out of my life ? 
No; it called my whole self unto it, 
And I flowed to feed it, till it alone 
Remained. It is my life, my eternity. 
I cannot believe in anything beside, 
No other word but his can I receive. 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 9 

Am. Sister, the blood-stained road to Calvary 
Thy Master trod. He beckons thee to come, 
The opportunity to save thy soul. 
Mar. Another has my soul in his keeping. 
Am. Blaspheme thou not. Did God give 
man a soul 
That he could play with like a bawble ? 
Thy soul cannot be given to any in this 

world. 
He to whom thou wouldst bequeath thy 

soul, 
Would have cast it aside as easily 
As he hath thee. 
Mar. Cast me aside ! Oh ! Father ! 

Were that true, death would have come to me 
In pity. My king loves me. More than 

senses 
Love tells when love responds. 
Am. Still obdurate; 

But heaven will bend if thou canst sup- 
pliant be. 
Hast thou no loved one who has left this 
world ? 



10 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act I 

Is there no saint whom thou wouldst pray 

to meet ? 
Dost thou not long to look on Heaven's 

Queen ? 

And hear the voice of Him who saved the 

world ? 
Mar. To be with these, and to be honored 

by them 
Through great eternities, I could abjure all 

hope, 
If I might see my king once more. Louis ! 
Louis ! oh ! would he come ! He will come. 
But if I cannot see him, I will be content 
To give my every power to thought of him. 
Pll live until I see him, the why of life, — 
I am happy in the thought. 
Am. It grieves me, child, 

To see thee led thus far astray. I know 
Thou wilt repent, but thy time is short. 
I will leave thee now, and the sisters will 

come, 
And they may show thee better than I 
The way to God; and those will come who 

think 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE 11 

They have known love like thine. Those 

minister 
To us best, who have known like affliction. 
I will come to thee again, if God permit. 
Call for me, sister. Be it day or night, 
It matters not the hour thou shalt call. 
I am not better than my Lord, and he 
Cared not how heavy were his bruised feet, 
How weary was his heart with others' sin, 
He knew not rest while he could save a soul. 
Farewell. Thou art so sick, so very sick, 
I almost fear to leave thee. Farewell. 
Mar. Farewell. [Exit Ambrose.] 

Still I believe; I hope; I pray; I plead; 
But for one thing and that one thing must be. 
I feel, at last, the surcease of my wave of 

love. 

My king's last message seemed to ripple 

tidings 
Of his long-waited coming. He used those 

terms, 

Those sweet endearing names of our first 
love, 



12 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act I 

He called me by my second name, Angelique, 
And I could hear him speak again the word, 
And smile, and tell me how appropriate 
The name was. [Enter Sister Felice.] 

Fel. (Pausing at the door to cross herself.) 
Holy mother, save her soul ! 
Wilt thou allow me, sister, a few words ? 
Mar. Yes, if they be of love. 
Fel. [aside] I must not weaken. 

[to Mar ] There was a time, 'twas but three 
years ago, 
I knew a man. He told me in words and 

sighs; 
In kisses, tears, and smiles, that I alone 
Could keep the jewels of his loving heart. 
Ah ! would I take them !— constancy, true 

faith, 
Honor, and zeal, he swore the strands on 

which 
His pearls of love were strung. If Pd not 

take, 
Then I would rend the strands, and sever life. 



Scene L] DE FONTANGE. 13 

Oh ! trustful love ! poor trustful love ! oh ! 

love, 
That could not doubt, nor could withhold 

itself 
From ought he asked. I almost gave up 

God, 
For he would tell our love was God. I 

leaned 
One soft spring evening on his manly breast; 
The breeze fanned gently the arbor where 

we sat; 
The cloudy lilacs, deep-toned hyacinths, 
And virgin lilies, sweetened all our fears 
Till they were not; night's jewels made 

complete 
Our diadem of joy. Asudden ! a sound ! 
A foot-fall broke the sacred stillness, 
A woman stood before us with a child. 
I looked upon the woman and the child. 
No words were spoken. 
I broke away, but moaning fled afar. 
I felt the while his spider's coil drawing; 
I thought I could not loose the threads. I 

wailed. 



14 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act I 

They drew me back, yet not quite back. 

The threads 
Of love, one day, seemed turned to chains 

of death. 
All lost, I cried to our blest Lady of Heaven, 
The cry of despair, of utter hopeless despair. 
She heard me, and I gave myself to Her, 
And to Her blessed Son. There is happiness, 
Dear Sister; seek and find, what I have 

sought 
And found. 
Mar. You loved, you say, yet could find hap- 
piness 
In something which took it from you. Is't 

love, 
When we can let it go ? Had you e'er 

known, 
E'er felt the soulful, heart-full, life-giving, 

yet 
Life-taking power, you would never give 

it up. 
Was't love that pressed you on to shades of 

death, 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 15 

You could not fear, if you were in its life. 

'Twas something weaker, for it does not die. 

Fel. I did not give up love. 

Mar. Then speak, speak on. 

I would know of it. I thought you had done 
speaking. 

So you revert, and see that love was all, — 

That nothing could replace it. 

Fel. Worldly love 

Is pale. I've found a love far better than 

man's love, 
Which bears me up. Man changes. The 

Trinity, 
The saints, the hosts of heaven rest the same. 
A constant goal alone can hold a constant 

love. 
I wish no more to feel it of this world; 
My Lady and Her Son are all I seek; 
I love and honor them. 
Mar. You mean it not; 

Has ever the great Seine turned from its 

course ? 
And is the greater flood of love less constant ? 
You spoke with tenderness of one happy eve; 



16 THE BROKEN STATUE Act L] 

I thought I heard true music in your voice; 
Your tone unconsciously caressed the words; 
And you then seemed to sink away and love 
Stood in your place. The vine-clad arbor 

called, 
The spring flowers touched your unresisting 

sense, 
And you again were in your lover's arms. 
There you would be. If you should hear 

him call, 
Would you not flee this place ? His accents 

sweet 
And tender would make your vows forgot- 
ten, vain; 
Yes, should he * say, sweet-heart, I need 

your love, 
I sigh for you, my love, with weary heart, 
Let me know rest with thee in peace and 

safety, 
Only one answer could you bear to make. 
Fel. Oh ! no ! I would not heed, —but he'll 

not call. 
I know he did not love me. I would not 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE 17 

That he should call. Oh ! temptation ! 
Wicked temptation ! He's engulfed in sin, 
And he would draw me to the dreadful sea, 
And then the cruel waves would come, — 

his words 
Would swamp my good intent. My soul is 

safe. 
Why should I think of the cruel ocean— 
From which I have been saved ? Holy 

mother! 
Keep it back ; keep him back. Help to resist. 
I fear. —Have my penances been for naught? 
Sister, those stronger than I should speak 

to thee. 
The power in heaven is great, is infinite. 
Do not condemn or judge God's power by me. 
I would relinquish silly worldly things, — 
Renounce each one,— I thought I had— to 

God. 
No; I do not love that man. I would not go 

To him, if he should— farewell; think of the 

Christ, 
Not mortal; hark to him, and let him speak. 

(Exit Felice) 



18 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act I 

Mar. Would I speak falsely of my love, and 
say 

It is not, when it is? I'll be sincere 

To it, and breathe it with my latest breath, 

For I know it is more than my life itself. 

I doubt my lover ? Oh ! the strangler comes! 

Oh ! back ! pray, back ! and grant me one 
day more! 

Then take my pale throat unresisting 

To thy cold and bony fingers. One day 
more ! 

Love wills ! Thou must. No ; blandly mock- 
ing face, 

I do not fear thee. Bloodless lips, sight- 
less eyes, 

I am not afraid. Blanched jaws ! 

Senseless flesh of graves ! I ask not for 
peace. 

I live in torment, with torment increasing 

For future hope, if I may only live. 

Good heart ! you'll not fail me. Beat for 
the love 



Scene 1]. DE FONTANGE. 19 

That thou wilt know; beat for the love that 

throbs 
For thee in thy king's breast. Send blood 

in flames 
To burn the strangler's grip. Aeneas 

returns. 
He comes tomorrow. Beat, throb high, for 

him, 
Mount that thy fire may light his way and 

shame 
The sun before his lover's eyes. He comes. 

(Enter SlSTER LAURA). 

Laura. Child, thou wilt hear me now ? I 

fear that I 
May never again see thee. 
Mar. I am not dying: 

You think that death approaches; the heart 

is hid. 
My heart is nearing birth with great travail, 
Which racks my body, and makes me seem 

weak. 
They've said a month each day would be 

my last. 



20 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act I 

Yet, I live on. 
Lau. Poor child, thou liv'st, and how ? 

The good physician marvels as, each day, 
He sees thou art not gone. He fears each 
hour. 

The power was not his to keep thee here. 
The Great Physician looks upon thee still 
With pity manifest. He knows thy trials, 
And thy temptations; and has rendered thee 
Accordingly. Give him the praise for life. 
Mar. I sure will see my king once more. 
Lau. How can one so faithless hold God's 

favor ? 
Mar. Faithless! I have faith beyond all 

men. 
Lau. But faith is what ? Embruted man. 
Turn it 
To God, and thou wilt find what pure love is. 
I once thought that man's love commanded 

faith, 
Or what man would call love, fair lyric fiend, 
Which elves into our truest selves, and 

filches, 
To our embasement, the good hindering. 



Scene L] DE FONTANGE. 21 

Its perjurious voice seductive, vile, conjuring 
The semblances of sacred forms to hide the 

sepulchres 
Most vile with reeking dead. The portal 

lamp 
Is dazzling bright above a jewelled door; 
The silly victim's brain begins to burn 
As nearer he approaches it, and he, — 
Mar. [interrupting] Oh ! sister, thou saidst 

that love was known to thee, 
Speak to me then of that alone; 
Speak of it tenderly as of hope's flower; 
Speak of it sympathetically; 
Tell of it as of a living soul, an ardent 

flame, 
Or as it used to seem to you. Speak not 
Of love with pondering consideration. 
Emotions are the truest part of us;— 
Love comes from them, or,— no; love rules 

them, 
And they love's subjects, waiting on his 

word, 
Responding to his summons to put reason 

down; 



22 THE BROKEN STATUE Act L] 

To fling the gauntlet. Would one harm 

their lord, 
Their eagre billows up, and casts ashore 
The cunning boats which evil doubt would 

launch. 
Lau. How canst thou upon such febrile folly 
Launch all thy hopes, fatuous deluded child. 
Thou callest the hideous tongues of lowest 

flame 
As glows which ever rule the world. 
Mar. But thou, — 

Thou, as well as I, may know deception ? 
And I would say thou speakest false, for I 
Know what I trust is love, the greatest 

truth. 
Lau. Oft that 

Which seems to us most true is really that 
Which is most false. I see there is some 

power 
Most black, most wicked, turning the colors 

of day 
Before thine eyes, making thee see where 

truth 
Is not. Thy passion seems pure, 'tis feculent. 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 23 

And 't is the waste, the dregs of life on which 
Thou fixest gaze with so great constancy. 
Consider for a moment how high is the love 
That loves the great unseen, serving it, 
Hoping some day to live within its presence. 
Sister, a spell is coming over thee. Thine 

eyes 
Have look unnatural. I call a priest 
Mar. No; Sister Laura. No. My time's not 

come. 
Lau. Then, the doctor ? 
Mar. No; my ailment is my own. 

I brought it on myself. I would no cure, 
For I might lose in it more than my life. 
Oh ! he must come ! Oh ! how long I have 

waited ! 
Were his heart of marble, the bleeding tears 
Which I have shed would melt it to humanity. 
Lau. [aside, withdrawing] Never has such as 

she entered these walls; 
Never a soul so trustful in a man. 
May God forgive her. I condemn her 

way:— 



24 THE BROKEN STATUE Act I] 

It is most sinful clinging to the world. 
And loving carnal things. But so much love ! 
Would it were turned aright to things of 

heaven! [Exit Laura.] 

Mar. Am I becoming weaker, nearer death ? 

They seem to gaze on me with blank-eyed 

fear, 
Whenever they turn not their eyes away. 
Am I grown frightful, hideous ? My king 
Will see me just the same, his statue, 
Every line as exquisite as 't was. 
I care not how my eyes are sunken, 
The light of love will make them beautiful 
For him. When he shall come, — Oh ! he 

will come,— 
Have I struggled, do I struggle for naught ! 
Death's near. Yes, 't is death. Good faith, 

be strong. 
A little longer, blessed hope, hold fast. 
I would write a last appeal today, 
Would some only help me ! Pm so tired 
For Louis' arms, so thirsty for a tear 
Of his. [Enter A NUN.] 



Scene 1]. DE FONTANGE. 25 

Nun. Sister Celeste is come and sends 

Inquiry if you wish her. 
Mar. LaValiere ? 

She whom my king onced loved, perhaps 

yet not 
As he loved me. 
Nun. The veil has passed between; 

She thinks no longer of the hopeless past. 
She's travelled far with thought of help- 
ing thee; 
She bade me tell thee she has come to aid 

In any way. 
Mar. Oh ! I need her help ! Send her. 

[Exit Nun.] 
Yes; I am weaker. I am asking aid. 
She must be good. I sometimes wish I 

might 
Be good and happy in ideals. But oh ! 
I love; I love; Can she be as she seems; 
Content, or is she cloaking her bruised 

heart ? 
How can a woman change her soulful love : 
Oh ! God ! I would not part the ties now 

bound; 



26 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act I 

I cannot but love my king. 

[Enter LaVALIERE, SlSTER CELESTE.] 

Thou art a Christian; 
I could not have sought thee out as thou 

hast me. 
You have known the love of Louis. 
Cel. Of that 

Concern is far removed from me. I look 
Upon another king, another realm. 
I serve the heart that broke with love for me; 
I long to pour my love in gratitude 
And praise to Him, heaven's King. 
Mar. How could you leave 

Whom you once loved ? What led ?— ah ! 

what could lead ? 
Cel. You know my life at court; you know 

my fall 
Into displeasure. — 
Mar. You could not renounce, 

As they would tell, or you could not have 

lived. 
You could not believe no more love's tide 
Would flow to you, because it once had 

ebbed. 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 27 

Cel. I care not how the tale is told. I think 
Not of the world, for the nail-pierced hand 

led me 
To the realm where the spirit comes to life; 
And once we know the spirit life, our love 
No longer roves to earthly things. It leads 
Me still. I am satisfied. 

Mar. Wilt thou not try 

To think of earth-blown love, and help me 

write 
A last appeal to him, my king ? Say, yes, 
Sweet sister; he must come before I die, 
And I know my death is coming soon. 
Thou wilt forgive my weak request, 
And sympathy wilt add for my one wish, — 
The only great desire I have ever known. 
Yes; thou'lt forgive me what I ask ? Say 

aye. 
Cel. Lay thy head upon thy pillow, and 

take some rest. 
Dear child, I pity thee and love thee. 
I scarcely know the best for thy soul life. 

Mar. I cannot rest, and I long not for it; 



28 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act I 

My life is gone, for that there's no regret; 
But oh !— my king, —my king, - oh ! God ! 
my king ! 
Cel. He shall come, child. 
Mar. I know— 

Cel. I will help thee write. 

Mar. Sweet sister, I believe there is a God, 
For I now see one of his angels. 
We must not tarry in the letter's writing, 
A stupor may come over me before the end; 
If it shall hold me, bring me back to con- 
sciousness 
By any means you can. Spare me nothing; 
Beat on my fore-head; make my heart throb 

with blows. 
Yes, we will write the letter now. Where 

do they keep 
The fluid and the quills ? 
Mar. I forgot of them. 

Here is the key. The drawer in the small 

table. 
In there the treasures of my king are kept, 
My great possessions,— messages from him. 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE 29 

In you I have a trust without a fear, 

And seek your help with faith. A last 

appeal ! 
Oh ! I must trust to you to lend me words. 
I know that I must die, I am so weak. 
A last appeal,— a single hope,— I seek 
With dying breath to tell my love. No 

words 
Will come to call my lover perfectly, 
They seem so weak, those former ways of 

greeting. 
Gel. Ah ! any words from heart like thine 

must find 
Response. 
Mar. Oh ! I believe; I let it speak; 
Write, "Lover, who supplantest life for me, 
My lover, I am waiting patiently. 
Yes; you are coming to your sweet-heart, 

Angelique, 
But hasten. Come now. Oh ! why do you 

delay ! 
Oh ! were it you the sick,— the sun should 

not move, 



30 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act I 

Till I were winging toward you swifter than 

the winds. 
Pd search the earth for balm to call health 

back; 
Fd lay my heart on yours and give it out. 
All that I could I have given to you, 
But sacrifice for love is happiness; 
I let them take the babe from off my breast, — 
My sweet frail babe !— I loved it, but for 

you 
I let its tender mouth be drawn away, 
And closed my eyes to its appealing gaze. — 
Oh ! it seemed so trustful !— And my ears 
I stopped, and sobbed, yet could not drown 

its cry. 
They told me I might live a little longer, 
If I could give it up. I let go. 
I loved it so; I loved you more; come, oh ! 

come, [swooning.] 
Celeste, send the letter; send the letter." 

CURTAIN. 



Act II.] DE FONTANGE. 31 

ACT SECOND. 

SCENE I. ~ A dark dusty room. 

TIME: — The same day, ten hours later. 

j4 door opens at the left Enter NOVICE HELEN, 

then Sister Laura. 

Hel. Yes, I was singing when we were not 
allowed to speak, but that Novice Ave 
need not have told. I can't help singing 
more than the crickets. And it was not 
talking. 

Lau. Thou must learn obedience, wayward 
child. Well thou knewest what thy 
singing was. 
Hel. [half aloud] I didn't think my voice 
as bad as that. 

Lau. Many times we have thought to have 
heard thy voice, when thou wist not we 
were attending. But now we have a 
novice come among us, a good and simple 
and sincere soul. — 

Hel. [aside'] Good and simple, nothing worse. 



32 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act II 

Lau. A pure, sweet child, conscientious and 

obedient, and she would seek thy welfare, 

and so has told us of thy sin. Would 

thou wert like her. 

Hel. Sister Laura, I do not feel very 

guilty. 
Lau. The deeper then thy sin. Thy mind 
must be most depraved, most unworthy 
of this holy house. Wast thou not con- 
scious that thou shouldst make no unnec- 
essary sound in the hours of silence ? 

Hel. No. Yes. No. For,— 

Lau. I leave thee that thy silly mind become 
settled, and then thou mayst be prepared 
to meditate and pray and be forgiven. 

Hel. No, Sister Laura, don't go. Please, 
Sister Laura, when you were a novice, — 
(aside, despairingly) she looks as if she were 
born a nun, —were there not among those 
who entered with you any who would 
sometimes break a rule, as I have done, 
yet, who you knew were good, and are 
today good members of your order ? 



Scene 1]. DE FONTANGE. 33 

Lau. Thou seekest excuse. I will not an- 
swer thee. Thy duty, thy vows must 
alone be seen by thee. Thou art the 
most froward of all the novices of recent 
memory. 

Hel. (aside.) Of recent memory. (Nods her 
head knowingly. ) 

Lau. Thou mayest improve with good asso- 
ciates. I fear not all the novices are like 
the gentle Ave. 

Hel. [aside] Praise be to goodness, they are 
not. 

Lau. Wilt thou confess the others who have 
broken rules ? It were better that thou 
tell me now than I should learn from thy 
companions. And tell of thine own faults. 

Hel. [aside] Sweet Ave has told all she could 
remember. I'm thankful her memory is 
simple, too. Sister Laura, I never could 
have time to tell all my faults. I can 
only confess that I am the worst offender 
and I have tempted all the others and 
been successful save with Novice Ave. 



34 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act II 

Sometime they all but she have joined 
with me in talk, or song, or laughter, 
when we were in the hours of silence. I 
am truly most at fault. 

Lau. Too often have I seen of late thine eye 
with an unholy gleam. At first I took it 
for religious zeal, and once I thought the 
jewel tear-drop of contrition there had 
place, thou wast so solemn and so earnest 
at thy prayers, till a day came when I saw 
thee pinch the novice at thy side, while 
thou wast most ardently attending to the 
order of the service. Dost thou remember 
that? 

Hel. [smiling] Yes, I remember it, but Alcee 
well deserved the pinching; she had pre- 
pared the vestments for the day, and poor 
old Pere Jean was celebrating mass with 
them on backwards. 

LAU. [smiles faintly, but soon resumes her severe 
attitude.] Would thou observedest the 
spiritual thoughts and them alone ! 

Hel. [aside] Then I should be like all the 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE 35 

others, [to Laura] I wish I could, but 
Pm not simple Ave. 

Lau. The light coming from thine eyes at 
this moment has many possible meanings, 
as do the pretty notes that escape thy lips 
too often. 

Hel. And you surely accept the best possible 
meaning. That would be just would it 
not, Sister Laura ? 

Lau. Thou art very light-minded, all too 
worldly. And what is it thou singest in 
the hours of silence ? Profane words and 
music, and sometimes profane and foolish 
words to the glorious melodies of our 
hymns. We are too patient with thee, 
too forgiving. Too often hath thy youth 
been counted as excuse; our hearts have 
softened at thy sin as we would say, "She 
is only fourteen/ ' But thou, Novice 
Helen, hast left the world; forget not 
that. Thou hast renounced it with sol- 
emn vows. When thou wast wedded to 
the church thou trampledst, none more 



36 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act II 

earnestly, the satin robe, which signified 
the world, under thy feet; thine ardor 
was so strong that rents were torn in it, 
and we could not use it for embroidering. 
I wonder if thou tookest it in full serious- 
ness, if thou thoughtest of thy wedding 
to the church as thou shouldst. 

Hel. I was earnest then, believe me, Sister 
Laura. 

Lau. God grant thou wert. Then think a 
while upon these vows and of thy daily 
sin in breaking them each day. [She walks 
toward the door, Helen follows her with beseech- 
ing eyes.] Thou needest not entreat. The 
punishment is light enough. 

Hel. But the room is dark. 

Lau. It is good for meditation. Speak no 
more. [Passes out and bolts the door.] 

Hel. Gentle Ave ! Sweet Ave ! Conscienti- 
ous Ave ! Simple Ave ! She's no better 
than the rest of us, only she doesn't know 
how to do anything but what she is told. 
We had some fun with her the first night 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 37 

she came. Dear Matilde was with us 
then, and she and I planned it, but the 
others joined in the frolic. The way we 
made the simple Ave prostrate herself at 
every picture and beat her head before 
each altar! And the trip we took her 
through the grave-yard on that dark night 
and hid behind the grave-stones and made 
her ask questions of the saints, and then 
we answered her ! Oh ! that penance we 
told her she must submit to:— while she 
said her rosary we dropped cold, cold 
water down her back. I'm glad we did 
it, but I think that she's found it out 
somehow and so become so pious. Oh ! 
sweet Matilde ! I wish she were here 
now. She was good and pure and faith- 
ful at devotion, but her face wasn't al- 
ways like an Italian angel's on an altar 
cloth. There was none better than she 
in spirit. But she could not stand the 
life. Oh ! how sick she was, and how re- 
luctant she was to go. I wanted almost 



38 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act II 

to leave when she went. Oh ! Matilde ! 
I can't stay here any longer. Pm going 
to cry and cry and cry until Fm sick and 
pale, and they say I must go. (She sinks 
on floor and mopes a little, then jumps up quickly 
to her feet) No, Fm not going to cry; 
they might come in and rejoice at what 
they would think was penitence brought 
on by their punishment. I shall not have 
my means of penitence dictated to me. 
Fm going to show them that I don't mind 
being locked up alone in the dark, but I 
do. I wonder what there is in this place. 
I never remember that any of the 
naughty novices were locked in here be- 
fore; prayers are our usual penance, —but 
they don't know that I don't mind pray- 
ing before the beautiful altars. I'm go- 
ing to open the shutters of that window 
if I can. (Goes over to a window at the rear of 
stage and begins to shake the shutters] This is 
dustier than a saint's tomb. Oh ! wouldn't 
the meek Ave be frightened here. She's 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 39 

good because she's a coward. But I'll 
make her sin. (From the vigorous shaking of 
Helen the shutters suddenly fly back and almost 
knock Helen over. She laughs at this, collecting 
herself.) The little light that comes 
through this dirty old window won't dis- 
turb my meditations, I guess. I wonder 
if there is anyihing around that might. 
Probably an old prayer-book. Oh ! there's 
surely something good in that big chest. 
I hope it isn't full of sermons; if it is, I'm 
afraid I'll say something very sinful. It 
seems cleaner than the rest of the room, 
and it will open. Good ! [opens the chest 
delves into it, and sings once or twice] 

"Oh ! I'm a wicked little nun, 

But then a nun must have a run, 

So I have just begun to have some fun." 

[as she draws a magnificent blue gown out of the 
chest.] Oh ! this is wonderful. I didn't 
know that fairy godmothers ever visited 
convents. Isn't it the most beautiful 



40 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act II 

thing in the world. I like miracles like 
this. It must belong to some queen or 
duchess. How did it come here ? Whom 
would they allow to bring it in ? I never 
saw anything like it, only once when I 
was in Paris and saw the queen driving. 
But her gown was not so magnificent. 
Such color ! Such richness ! And the 
lace so fine. No nun in our convent could 
ever make it without losing her sight. 
Perhaps it is a saint's and so has lasted 
centuries. I wish it might last forever, 
but I don't believe it is a saint's. It 
looks too good for a saint's. Oh ! wicked 
mirror! [She brings forth a mirror.] You say 
to me, "My little friend, the habit of a 
novice is not just what you need to make 
prettiest. I know it is wicked, but I'm 
so bad anyway, and I'll confess it all with 
tears. [She puts the dress up in front of her, then 
places it carefully back into the trunk- She takes 
hold of tbe trunk-lid, and remains doubting and 
fearing a few moments.] It would be terrible, 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 41 

but it will do no harm. I can't help it. 
I will be so careful, and, —I must put it 
on. Someone might come. No; they 
will leave me here for a long while, I pro- 
voked them so. What a charming medi- 
tation. Ah! Ah! Ah! (Throws hack the 
lid quickly 9 dances out of her novice-costume and 
removes her head-dress. With these she dusts the 
floor, then shakes them, and lays them on floor 
under her feet spread out as much as possible. 
Finally she puts the gown on, singing gaily) 

"Oh Pm a wicked little nun," etc. 

(The dress on, she looks at herself roguishly in 
the mirror.) Eh ! You are too pretty to 
make a good nun. I wish Matilde were 
here. Wouldn't we have a beautiful 
scene. I never knew before how dif- 
ferent clothes can make you feel. I am 
independent now of everything, the con- 
vent, the nation, and the king. (Sings.) 



42 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act II 

Je suis une damoiselle 
Aimable et tres belle; 
Jesuis comme une renne, 
Puis tremblez a ma haine. 

Ah ! Mon ame ! Quel heureux ! 
Galant, tiens du coeur 
D'etre un courageux 
Voleur et tu es deux. 

[Enter Sister Felice.] Oh ! Holy Virgin ! 
[She weeps.] 

HEL. [Turns expecting severest censure, and stands 
confused at the tears of FELICE.] Oh ! Sister 
Felice ! is my soul lost, because of my 
sin ? Can I never be forgiven ? 

Fel. Poor child, thou canst not understand. 

Hel. I know I am very bad. If you would 
only pray for me, I might be better. 

Fel. Yes, I will pray for thee, but child, 
there is one who needs all our prayers at 
this moment. Her body is dying, and 
with her body— Oh ! Blessed Mother!— 
her soul; yes,— I fear,— her soul. 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 43 

Hel. Is she worse than I ? Who is she ? 

Fel. The one whose gown thou wearest, — 

Hel. Is this her gown ? 

Fel. Yes, she sent me for it, and her voice 
was that of one who has left the world, 
but for whom the next hath no place. 
Oh ! my heart is torn for that dying girl. 

Hel. Oh ! heavens ! is someone dying, really 
dying ? And I have her gown on ? Can 
I do anything ? Oh ! she cannot be dy- 
ing ! Something would save her ! 

[Enter SlSTER LAURA.] 

Lau. [sternly.] Do I see aright ? And thou, 
Sister Felice, what may thy excuse be ? 
Thy fault is not light. Thy weakness is 
amazing. Must the request of the dying 
wait while thou lookest with tears upon 
this silly child ? Novice, thy lesson must 
be taught. Come into the presence of 
one dying because of vanity like thine. 
I will take thee as thou art in the robe 
she has requested. 

Hel. Oh! don't, kind Sister Laura. It 



44 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act II 

must be awful to be dying. Oh ! I will 
be so good, keep every rule, be as meek 
as Ave, only don't make me go to her in 
her gown. Pity me, kind Sister Laura. 
Oh ! Sister Felice, don't let her make me 
go. 
LAU. (Motions towards SISTER FELICE to be si- 
lent. ) Come. (Stronger and firmer to Helen. ) 
Come. If it be thine own death thou 
shalt come. 

CURTAIN. 



SCENE TWO.— Same as in Act I. DeFontange is 
alone. 

Lau. He comes: two words: but death is 

stopped by them. 
Oh ! glorious news ! How I have longed 

for you ! 
How I have lived for you ! He comes; he 

comes; 



Scene 2.] DE FONTANGE 45 

My king, he comes. When heard I the 

words first ? 
Well I remember. Little more than a 

year ago 
When I was waiting to have audience 
With him. I held his flowers in my hand, 
I wore the gown that he had chosen me, 
And the simple string of uncut pearls. 
Since then earth's loveliest flowers have 

been mine, 
Gowns most gorgeous, jewels most wond- 

erous, 
But sweetest memories still twine about 
The simpler things which he sent me first. 
In the little ante-room I waited long, — 
How slow the moments passed! Assembled 

there 
Were those a month before had made me 

gaze 
With ravished and admiring jealous eyes. 
All nobles and of great renown and fame, — 
Yet I could not attend their words nor speak. 
How misty, vague, unreal, the dazzle 

seemed, 



46 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act II 

The while I kept repeating, ' 'Will he come?" 
How my head grew hot, I seemed to sway; 
The mirrors made me think it was a dream, 
As I would smile in them or raise my hand 
Toward them to see if I were still awake. 
At last when moments had grown hours 

and days 
The words came from I knew not, cared 

not whom, 
"He comes;" and I felt it was my royal 

lord. 
My love responded even before he came 
Where I could see him. And it drove out 

fears 
And made my blood flow rich and full. I 

felt 
Such perfect ecstasy, such happiness, 
That all confusion sparkled like the dew 
Of morning in the glorious sun-light. 
He called all radiant colors of my soul 
With his kind ray. I knew that love was 

king. 
He comes, my king ! Thank God ! once 

more to live 



Scene 2.] DE FONTANGE. 47 

By glancing in my lover's eye, and hearing 
His sweet tones, like notes from summer's 

harp, 
Tuned by the zephyrs, having each the 

beauty 
Of swaying branches, flowers, each astir 
With song of bird, or soothing hum of bee. 

[Enter NOVICE HELEN and LAURA.] 
Lau. [to Helen.] Confess thy sin, Helen, 

and crave pardon. 
Hel. [to Laura.] Oh ! I am sorry for it all, 

but speak 

I can't. [Seeing Laura unmoved, she throws 

herself at the feet of De Fontange.] Forgive 

me, noble lady, forgive ! 
I cannot bear to look into thy face 
And tell my sin most horrible. Forgive ! 
I did not think it harm. I knew not what 
I did. [Exit Laura.] 

Mar. Sweet child, what hast thou done to 

me ! 
No wrong. Thy voice brings back a mem- 
ory 



48 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act II 

Of girlhood days, and thoughts of happy 

time, 
But not as happy as a human knows, 
For a woman whom love makes a woman 
Alone has happiness that is complete. 
I would not give one moment of that love 
For blind eternity. My lover, thine arm 
About me once again, let all of hell, 
The demons and the damned lance white- 
heat flames, 
The closer will I cling and cry, "I love; 

I love.' ' 
Kind tender Louis, thou art coming soon, 
And I shall hear thee tell again they love. 
I heed not all the taunting of the world; 
They know not what they say, not know- 
ing love. 
And thy gown I wear, but where is it ? 
Hel. Good lady, I love thee, but I have 
sinned. 
Oh ! God ! I would not had I only known. 
I found thy wonderous gown by chance and 
tried 



Scene 2.] DE FONTANGE. 49 

It on most carefully. I have it now. 

I never felt a weight of sin so fierce ! 

Tell them to treat me harshly as they will; 

I cannot hope that thou wilt grant me par- 
don ! 
Mar. Oh ! gentle maid, weep not. No fault 
is thine. 

None has ever felt desire strong as mine 

To hold the awful enemy away 

Till I should see my king once more. And 
now 

He comes today. Forgive ? Most willingly. 

Ah ! thou art young and fair. The gown 
doth well 

Become thee, and it shall be thine when I 

Am gone tomorrow, and he shall have 
come. 

CURTAIN. 



50 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act III 

ACT THIRD. 
SCENE :Same as in Act /. TIME:— An hour later. 

Marie DeFontange. Oh! moments! mo- 
ments! stolen moments from death! 

I know you, death, how near you are to me. 

Be stayed; more horrible the hereafter for 
my theft; 

I care not. Only till my king shall come 

I will stay thee. Ye bleeding moments! 
wrestle 

For your life; on you are not gone; arise; 

'Tis nothing that thine eyes are bloodshot 
red; 

Another struggle for the hair's-breadth 
space 

And thrust thyself, a spear gleam, 'gainst 
the foe 

Who would advance. Oh! moment, stronger 
than 

The last! Victory! Fight! A soul thy 

stake! 
A soul, —a soul of flesh, who would be flesh. 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 51 

Oh! rapturous embrace with kiss of love! 
Oh! summer's breath laden with rose's scent! 
Oh! sea of emerald and boat of pearl! 
Oh! azure sky with gentle waves of foam! 
Oh! birds of morn! Oh! cricket's hum at 

noon. 
And glorious glare of splendid blazing gold, 
As all turns gem beneath thy royal ray. 
Oh! crimson glow 'mid purple shrouded 

clouds, 
And whiffs of pink, smiles of the day to 

night! 
Oh! dark and wonderous shades for lovers 

made, 
And myriad worlds alight for only them! 

[Enter LA VALIERE, CELESTE.] 

Cel. Can I assist thee further? 

Mar. Kind Celeste! 

The string of uncut pearls, and that the last. 

Under the pillow, the farther one. Thanks, 

Kind Sister. Tell me, do I seem renewed ? 

You answer not? 
Cel. The robe is beautiful; 



52 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act III 

The blue was made just for thy hair, I 

think. 
Mar. My hair looks well. The pain it cost 

to pile 
The locks back is forgotten. — 
It seemed each hair a livid burning nerve, 
Yet 'tis for him. It is his favorite way. 
He liked it this way best, and it is fair ? 
And the first gifts I wear; in these he saw 
Me first. He'll see me just the same as 

when 
At court with serving train I came. My 

eyes, 
They are not glowing, but when he shall 

come, 
They sure will claim the fairest radiance. 
My hands,— oh! poor thin hands ! They are 

not fair, 
But he will love them as the last pale rose. 
And features gaunt and lines so deep and 

dark; 
Yet he will not despise them. Can you 

bring 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 53 

The powder and the rouge ? 
Cel. I have them here, 

Concealed beneath my robe. 
Mar. Let me kiss thee. 

Cel. No; it were a sin; and little have I done 

For thee. 
Mar. Then let me take thy hand. Forgive ! 

(kisses it.) 
Cel. Poor heart ! its tears might bathe the 

heavenly feet. 
MAR. No; no. (Sorrowfully— taking up the pow- 
der puff.) How bad the powder -acts, or 
fault 
Is in the face. Yes, there's the fault. Oh ! 

lines ! 
You stay the same or worse. You, Celeste, 
Will you only try ? Perhaps, I am too weak. 
I wanted to do all I could myself, 
For it will be my only sacrifice, — 
My last. 
Cel. Yes, let me try, though years are dim 
And distant when I held those to my face. 
(takes the puffs and cloths. ) 



54 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act III 

MAR. (After a few moments.) 'T is useless; 
worse than useless. Try the rouge. 
(a pause.) 

That is worse, but my hair is beautiful, 
You said it was, and you would not speak 
false. 
Cel. Oh! yes; it is a radiant glory. Gem 

Or diadem were no adornment there. 
Mar. Oh! good Celeste! I promise you one 
thing, 

And I remmeber it. I will see the priest, 
Kind Father Ambrose, and confess, in full 
confess. 
Cel. I knew thy promise good when thou 
Didst make it me. Oh! tell the father all. 
Thou must be saved. As in thy love with him 
Be strong. I go to call him; then to pray. 
I pray for thee all day and all night. I 

pray, 
Nor food I eat, nor sleep. God bless thee 

now; 
Farewell. 
Mar. Farewell, most noble sister-friend. 
(Exit Celeste.) 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 55 

Mar. She goes to pray for me ? I wait for 

him. 
The priest ? No; but for him, I wait; I pray. 
Must she not love him yet ? No; she does 

not. 
Love she has conquered. God has all her 

soul. 
Once when he came to her, she had returned, 
But when again she entered into the vale, 
She entered for her life. Never was she 
As I. Oh! love! forever be but mine, 
And I am thine, forever, love. Oh! flame! 
Consume me, and I call thy dust and smoke 
And ashes blessedness. Glow warmest red 
Within my brain, my heart, my soul. Thou 

may'st. 
I promised her to see the priest. The good 
She seeks, as does the father, I fathom not. 
I would prepare for Father Ambrose, but to 

pray,- 
To pray,— for my own soul, to pray to God. 
I pray to live, and my prayer is whole, 
And every power in me comes to plead, 



56 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act III 

To live ! To live. Oh ! God ! one hour more, 
Throughout the day, oh! God! to live! to live! 

(Enter FATHER AMBROSE.) 

Am. Thou callest for me ? 

Mar. Father, so you come. 

Am. Yes, happy at thy call. 

Mar. I would confess, 

And yet I have to give my every force 
In strife to keep alive. 

Am. For what avail ? 

Is death so terrible to thee ? Then seek 
The only one who hath conquered of himself 
The dread enemy, who can only make 
Thy resurrection sure in heaven. 

Mar. ' Tis death, 

Not the hereafter that I fear. Oh ! dread 
Of death before I see my king again once 

more. 
It shakes my soul as earth-quakes shock, 

and chains 
Of lightning quick succeeding, twist, and 

dart, 
And warp, and burn, and pierce, and rage, 
and ring 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 57 

Unearthly discords, clanging, screaching. 

Oh! damned 
Of all the ages, worse my state. 
Am. Dear child, 

Be still, and let us seek for peace and it 
Will come. Look only to the source of peace, 
The Virgin, and her Son. 
Mar. Father, I seek 

To live. I go to Heaven or Hell for aid. 
Am. 'T is Heaven will aid through Heaven's 
Queen. Then seek 
Aright. 
Mar. I seek. I will be calm. One day 
A lady of the court spoke thus of me, 
1 'Surely a person never lived, 
Who was so happy and yet so unhappy." 
I laughed full gay when someone told the 

words 
To me, but now I know that they are true. 
Am. But thou wast happy when thy life was 

good. 
Mar. No; I was happy when my king was 
near. 



58 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act III 

Am. My child, what then of years before 
you knew 

The court ? 
Mar. Oh ! they were nothing. Happiness 

Was then unknown. 

Am. The days of childhood, simple 
Sweet days of perfect joy ! To me 
They were life's fondest moments. 
Remember how the Master said, "Except 
As little children ye become, ye shall 
In no wise enter Heaven. " Then is our life — 
Oh ! even as the violets we cull 
'Mid song and laughter. Oh ! perfect hours! 
For we are full content, and only wish 
In play. Think of these moments of thy 

youth. 
Mar. Youth and childhood, distant is the 

time, 
Though I can count my years only eighteen. 
When I was very young, maybe, six or 

eight, 
I played like other children, careless, free, 
Among the birds and flowers and grasses 

oft, 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 59 

I never thought of being happy then, 

I played till I was tired, and that was all. 
Am. You have forgotten of the church. You 
went 

To church ? 
Mar. Yes. 

Am. When were you confirmed ? 
Mar. Too late, father. 
Am. I do not understand. 

My child, too late? 
Mar. Yes, I was ten. 

Am. Too late, 

She says, and only ten. 
Mar. Yes, for at ten 

I was vain. My beauty was my only thought. 

The turn of a wrist, a finger's move, was 
more 

To me than any prayer I read. I thought 

Throughout the confirmation of how I 
looked, 

And of the admiration of the world; 

And even when the archbishop the cross 

Imprinted, I thought of how the cross of oil 



60 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act III 

Became my beauty and decided poor, 
Indeed, and within were a jewelled orna- 
ment 
To claim a place upon my forehead. 
Am. Oh ! Heavens ! 

Mar. Ah ! was it not too late ? Yes, late; 

too late. 
Am. How could it be ? 
Mar. It was my life. All I 

Was taught after my eighth birthday had 

passed 
Was grace and beauty that I might attract 
A nobleman some day, and riches bring 
And glory on my name and family. 
My single subject, single lesson, through 

the years 
Was to be beautiful in every look 
And move. My life has been a strife for 

this. 
Death sounding makes me see as 't is the 

room 
From which I soon depart, its contents vain. 
Am. Thou hast attended church ? 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 61 

Mar. Yes, but never worshipped. 

Am. The power of the church thou knowest; 

thou faith 
Wilt add, and it will comfort thee, and give 
Thee needed strength for the journey dark 

and lone. 
It is a never- failing aid. The tomb 
Confounds it not; it triumphs over all. (He 

goes over to a large crucifix on the wall, blesses 

himself, then takes the crucifix down and places it 

in Marie's hands.) 
Trust the blessed Saviour, see his pierced 

hands 
And feet, his thorn-crowned brow, his 

riven side. 
The bleeding flow can cover all thy sins. 
Mar. I try. Blest Mother of God, plead 

with thy Son. 

Oh ! wicked, vile am I, and full of sin, — 
(Enter a messenger: to the messenger.) Speak 
is he come here yet ? 
Mess. He comes. 

(Marie lets the crucifix fall and it breaks on the floor.) 

CURTAIN. 



62 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act IV 

ACT FOURTH. 
SCENE iSame as in Act I. TlME:— An hour later. 

Louis, [meditating] The mystic madness of 

the dream, the dream— 
I dare not speak its name. Too soon 't 

will come: 
Never to wake again; yet it must be, 
For tombs are speechless and pale lips of 

graves 
Are dumb. What is it ? What am I ? A 

soul? 
And what is it w T hich passes out of me ? 
I live, and it will live somehow, somewhere. 
Can it dissolve and melt into nothingness ? 
Or can it feel itself as here ? Does it 
Take to the air or seek the sea or go, 
Go out and that is all as of the wind ? 
Can it possess the crumbling flesh alone, 
And can it cling to that which falls to dust ? 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 63 

Is that its heritage ? Is it of life ? 

It may be it has larger life and hope, — 

It may then know more that all we know 

as life ? 
It cannot be. [Looks toward MARIE] Oh ! 

God! 'T is death; death. 
Mar. Come nearer king and lover, it is I. 
Lou. [aside] Am I a king and do I tremble ? 

Fear, 
Is it a royal attribute ? To answer her 
All fails; to answer her I have despised 
As weakest of our race, of frailest mind, 
Without a will. [He approaches her.] 
Mar. Oh ! speak once more of love 
With rapturous voice, and kiss me once 

again. 

Oh ! happiness of first-born love; oh ! smile 

Of all the seasons beaming one, again 

To see thy face. [She reaches out a hand; he 

kisses it] Oh ! treasure of my soul ! 
The night is gone ! Come, let us climb the 

hill 

To greet the rising sun with laughter and 
song. 



64 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act III 

Love is a child, and children nothing fear. 
This is the spot on the bank beneath this 

tree. 
Come, let us sing, and love, and live, and 

love ! 
Lou. [half aloud] She f aces it with love upon 

her lips. 
Mar. I see you only, other thought is not. 
Yes, love upon my lips, for I am happy. 
'T is perfect joy. 
Lou. Poor child ! Ah ! curse me with latest 

breath. 
Why these words, my kind master ? You 

are here; 
You were so good to grant my simple 

request, 
So good,— I always think of you as good. 
Come, whisper to me the old words so sweet, 
And for this hour we live in former scenes; 
Repeat the words of that inclement day, 
When you were sheltering me with your 

plumed hat. 
Be not sad. I am happy. 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 65 

Lou. [aside] To answer ! 

How horrible the torment even here ! 
Mar. I wait, my lover. Shall I tell them 
over? 
I know them as the lark its song. How 

often 
They have been on my lips and in my heart, 
As I have tried to voice them. 
Lou. Poor, dear child, 

Forgive me. 
Mar. Yes, though what to be forgiven ? 

Now the song. 
Lou. ' 'Hair of the comet combed by the sun, 
Depths of the blue of even, 
Passionate red, and glow of the stars, 
Goddess,— " 

Oh ! ask me not 
For more in such an hour. You are— 
Mar. Happy, aye. 

Lou. Angelique, hast thou nothing to ask of 
me? 

Yes. Yes, everything except myself. You 
keep 



66 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act IV 

My soul, 't is my bequest, 't is all I have; 
You keep it, lover. 
Lou. Sweet-heart, keep thy soul ? 

Thou meanest thy soul ! 
Mar. Aye. 

Lou. [aside] Oh ! God ! am I 

Turned fiend to filch men's souls ? [to Mar. ] 

Thy thought is wild. 
Mar. So is my love. Wild ! Ah ! 't is the 

word ! My love 
Is as the lion wild, as the savage wild, 
And as the partridge wild, as the thyme 

wild. 
We have an hour for wild and glorious love. 
Oh ! rapturous embrace and kiss of love. 
Oh ! summer's breath laden with rose's 

scent. 
Oh ! sea of emerald and boat of pearl. 
Oh ! azure sky with gentle waves of foam. 
Oh ! birds of morn ! Oh ! crickets' hum at 

noon ! 
And glorious glare of splendid blazing gold, 
As all turns gem beneath thy royal ray. 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE. 67 

Oh ! crimson glow 'mid purple deepening 

clouds, 
And whiffs of pink, smiles of the day to 

night. 
Oh! dark and wonderous shades for lovers 

made, 
And myriad worlds alight for only them. 
Lou. Her mind is wandering. So near to 

death 
Without a fear! Her mind is gone. 
Mar. Good heart, 

Thou must not fail me now. Beat for the 

love 
That thou wilt know; beat for the love that 

throbs 
For thee in thy king's breast. Send blood 

in flames 
To burn the strangler's grip. Aeneas re- 
turns! 
He comes to-morrow; throb high for him; 
Mount that thy fire may light his way and 

shame 
The sun before his lover's eye. He comes! 



68 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act IV 

Oh! Louis! speak of love! never enough! 

Lou. She thinks not what she says. A 

frame! 

Vain empty frame which love doth haunt. 

Mar. No word to me? 

What were you saying? Have you been 

here long? 

I have been sick. How long I waited you! 
You could not come before. You loved me? 
You loved the baby? I loved it, but for you 
I let them draw its tender mouth away, 
And closed my eyes to its appealing gaze. 
But oh! it seemed so trustful. And my 

ears 
I stopped, and sobbed, yet could not drown 

its cry. 
They told me I might live a little longer, 
If I could give it up. I let it go. 
Oh! my sweet babe! But I loved you more. 
You have come, oh! you have come. I lean 
Oh! lover, on thine arm. Oh! happy time, 
Though death must come. 
Lou. Not death, but love and life. 

Mar. It were too full. Love for a moment, 

love! 



Scene 1.] DE FONTANGE 69 

I own it, and I die content. 
Lou. No thought 

Of life to come. 
Mar. This moment is enough. 

Lou. I call a priest. 

Mar. The God of love is here. 

Lou. Pray ! let me call ! The church should 

be here this hour. 
Mar. Oh ! leave me not, for then thou has- 
tenest death; 

But love and thought of it will keep me here; 

Thou lovedst me more than all and love me 
still 

The same. 'T was not the pomp and luxury, 

The riches of the palace and the power, 

The titles and the adoring multitudes; 

I had a pride in them which I now hate. 

My only claim, my only wish is you. 

Alway thy love my great desire, but now 

'T is all: no thought save of thy love; no 
word 

But love and thee. 
Lou. Oh ! tell me some request; 



70 THE BROKEN STATUE [Act IV 

Speak as you care for me. 
Mar. Ask forgiveness 

From those whom I have wronged and pay 
my debts. 
Lou. But for thyself ? 
Mar. Remember me sometime, 

And when thou takest from thy breast a 

flower, 
Its head drooping, but sweetness rare ex- 
haling, 
Breathe in its dying fragrance full and deep, 
And kiss its grateful leaves with thought 
of me. 
Lou. Whence sprung this love? I promise 
all and more. 
Ah ! what could pay for love like thine ? 
Mar. Thy love. 

A light is bursting through the window now; 
'Tis dazzling, a new light. Tired ! Happy ! 
What is approaching ? (She starts up, then 

falls back*) 
LOU. (Bending toward her.) Silent; yet she 
breathes. 



Scene L] DE FONTANGE. 71 

A priest must come. To die without a hope. 

'Tis strange no priest is here. 

Mar. (Reviving.) I have profaned 

The church. Call not a priest. None will 

answer. 

Lou. In such an hour the church cannot 

refuse thee. 
Mar. Oh ! leave me not to call. 'T will not 

avail. 
Lou. The thief upon the cross the Lord for- 
gave. 
Mar. I am the other thief. I reviled the 
Christ. 
Behold the broken crucifix. When I 
Heard you come, I threw it from me. 
Lou. Great God ! 

My soul is lost, as I thy cause of sin. 
Oh ! pray, and clasp the crucifix about my 

neck. 
We cry to God, to Mary, and to Christ. 
For thy soul, pray; pray ! 
Mar. Sweetest pledge of love, 

Thou prayest for me. 



72 THE BROKEN STATUE [ Act IV 

Mar M„ „ • Th ° U must J° in the praver 

Mar Ah ! C0 »W it save thy soul ? 

^athts^ ^ ° f *■* a "e G 
C ach P ietT Whatma ^ -t then the love 
Lou. What words to comfort thee ! 

J^e same forever, I lo^ o r rdSWhiChare 

As I hate myself I love you, AniltV™' 

and brigft° Wmgr ** but soft th * "fcht 

Th (sl?n, ?" TT 6S ° f ,ove and ^ee. 
I on nffi lmp - He kneds beside *«*) 

1d£ me n ° t; a farewe11 word - * 

Ma? h m T dUCh6SS ' Marie ' Antique. 
mJi H . dfopenin S her «*) I die happy; 
my king weeps for me. 

FINAL CURTAIN. 



X107 






r±2ll± 






'*j> 






sr^s 



^ 




/ * •'SIR o *° "t, : J^P/ / °+ 




%'V V^r*- V' ,n V ^- V"" 




^9*' 







: W •« 
$«?„ 



1 .o«a, ^ 



^ .<* *^V/k*o ^ .«£* .*£ 





+«& 






